


Tonight

by Immortal_trash389



Series: Time [2]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 14:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17469707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortal_trash389/pseuds/Immortal_trash389
Summary: Scott calls Dylin drunk and Dylin regrets life





	Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> This one's even shorter

I sighed, lyrics to Fix rousing me from my dreamland, plagued with nightmares. I scrabbled my hand along the nightstand, searching for my phone. I didn't want to answer, knowing exactly what was on the other end of the line.

I slid the answer logo down, holding the phone to my ear as I checked the clock. 3:26. “What?”

“Hey, Dylin. I jus’ wanted to talk.” His words were slurred, sliding together. He's drunk. “Y'know, when I'm holdin’ him, I still feel ya’.” I sighed softly, resting my head back against the pillows. “I was wrong, y’know? I'm sorry I left you like that.” He kept rambling, not caring about how it really affected me.

After half an hour or so, he sobered up, apologizing and hanging up. I closed my eyes, setting my phone back on the nightstand. I couldn't fall back asleep, though. I bet he fell right asleep. Probably sleeps like a baby, knowing exactly how I feel. I lay in bed, knowing I wasn’t gonna be able to get back to sleep.

It didn't matter that he called every night, around the same time, confessing the same damn thing. He wasn't here, saying it to my face. Hell, he should just say goodbye already and leave me as a ghost in his past, instead of reopening the wound for me. I was still lying here, alone while he had someone to hold.

I didn't want to fall asleep, my nightmares waiting around the corner. If he didn't keep calling me in the night, I could still believe he was here when he wasn't. But he made that hard, calling me every single night, always drunk. Talked about how sorry he was, rambling until he was sober. Yet, he never could confess that when he was sober. Drunk, he'll say he misses me, wants me. But never fucking means it.

I clenched my fist, pounding it into the mattress as I let out a sob. The one thing that mattered most to me slipped through my fingers, leaving me alone.


End file.
